The Girl Whose Hair Was Always On Fire
by TallDarkAndHandsome
Summary: Eleanor and Park (Rainbow Rowell): Alternative ending to the story (epilogue). The ending of the book was kinda left to the reader's imagination to deduce what happens next. Will Eleanor and Park have their happy ending? Do they deserve it? Read for fluffiness Parknor goodness! And to cheer you up if you're having a bad day!
1. The Girl Whose Hair Was Always on Fire

**If you did not read Eleanor and Park, GO AND READ IT NOW. GO. **

**But read this even if you didn't read the book. It will make you curious as to what happened before the events in my fanfic. (and make you wanna read the book)**

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_He sat up. He smiled. Something heavy and winged took off from his chest. Eleanor hadn't written him a letter, it was a post card._

_Just three words long.  
_

* * *

Park scanned the postcard, making sure he read it right. He was not surprised by the letter, it was so very her. It was just too late now, he convinced himself. It would have been better if she replied to him when he was writing her the daily letters. What happened now? What changed?

He wasn't going to go back to her, he thought resolutely. He didn't want to relive the happy memories - all the repressed ones. He didn't want to feel her, smell her, see her, only to lose her. Again.

He did wish that she showed up at prom and took him by surprise. But that was not Eleanor. She didn't do dramatic reveals or happily ever afters.

Park stretched and got out of his bed. Ignoring the sudden hunger gripping him that was twisting his stomach with the force of a hurricane, he stumbled and fell on his way to grab his clothes. He landed on his behind. The ache in his bum wiped away any sleepiness he had left in him.

He didn't think he'd ever see Cat again. Not date-see her but physically see her. She'd just avoid everyone again, enclosing herself in her own private shell. He still didn't get how she plucked up the courage to ask him. But it doesn't matter. He didn't find that mysterious or interesting, like Eleanor. She wasn't Eleanor.

Eleanor.

She was a mixture of contrasts. She wanted to blend in, yet she stood out the most. She was the most judged, had a terrible home life but she never let it get to her. She remained kind and warm-hearted. But most of all, she was so... _alive_.

Placing her postcard underneath his pillow, he ambled out of his bedroom, feeling happy for the first time in a year.

* * *

He woke up alone. He dreamt of her. He always dreamt of her when he was alone. He never really got her face right but he visualized a girl who was exceptionally pale with curly ringlets of hair. Like Merida from Brave.

He was still such a dork.

He heard her voice now and again until time stole that from his memory as well. He remembered feeling happy in his dream. Maybe that's why he thinks of her when he's alone.

A world-famous makeup artist. Married and divorced; marriage lasted 10 years. Famous and good-looking comes with a prize, your life is an open book for everyone to judge on. As his publicist told him, the media gobbled up every juicy bit of information they could get. Fib or truth. And they did.

Oh god they did.

They swallowed up everything the Mistake fed them, a pack of rabid dogs on a thick juicy steak. She tweaked every fact, added a little spice, a little salt and BAM! A complete and utter lie. The plus side was it skyrocketed his career since his daily appearance in the news ensured that people never forgot him. He was grateful no one bought her lies. He became the unsuspecting victim while she was the evil player. He was Jennifer Aniston and the Mistake was Angelina Jolie, he admitted, hating the comparison by the minute. He just calls her the Mistake since that day. Saying her name was just a terrible waste of time.

Drowning in his thoughts, he dressed quickly and checked the time. 5 am.

Groaning, he flopped back to try to go back to sleep. But sleep had walked out the door since his first Eleanor-thought.

Climbing out of his bed, he felt his head pound with the sudden blood rush. Stabilizing himself, he brushed his teeth, put on his running shoes and took off into the black, eerie night, trying to escape his problems for now.

* * *

**Eleanor**

She was exhausted. After working an 11 hour shift at the hospital, her eyes were droopy and her body demanded sleep. Refusing to give in, she drove as fast as she could to her shabby house that was some 10 miles away. The people at work offered a place at the residence attached to the hospital. But she wanted to be independent, unobligated to do anything.

Free.

After some reckless driving, almost hitting three cars, she turned off the engine and gazed at her front door. But just before she could get out, exhaustion overcame her as she dropped unconscious.

* * *

**Park**

He ran for ten minutes, turning corners of the dingy roads of Minnesota. Out of breath, he decided to stop for a while. As he slowly looked up, hunched over, palms on his knees, he saw the sun rising over the long row of houses. He watched mesmerized, truly admiring nature for the longest time. There were few cars on the street, but it looked quite deserted. As he gazed at the brilliant shade of orange, purple and yellow, he knew he was witnessing something that was meant only for his eyes.

Suddenly, pulling him out of the moment, a car door opened.

A flame climbed out of the car, looking completely out of it. Her hair was shining a million shades of red and orange, like there was a mini-sun beneath the fiery bush. He gazed enraptured. _Who was she? _As the girl turned around to walk past her car to the front door, he _recognized_.

Just like he did when he first held her hand. The girl whose hair was always on fire. He saw her again after what felt like a long time.

And it was.

He saw her again after 20 years_._

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**You came, you read, now you review!**


	2. The Strange Stranger

**Eleanor**

She opened her eyes and looked outside. She saw her neighbours' houses bathed in an orange light. Jolting awake, she realized with a tremor down her spine, that she'd been asleep in her car for the entire night. With her windows up.

She could have died and no one would have known.

Already feeling a little woozy, she stepped out of the car breathing in the fresh oxygen rich air. She walked around her car and got to her front door, searching for her keys. Panicking, she perused her body for any sign of silver. All she had was her pendant encircling her neck.

She walked back to her car, desperately hoping that her keys were in there and not at the hospital. She began banging the side of her car door.

"COME ON! OPEN UP!" she yelled at the inanimate door, inwardly cursing herself for making such a foolish mistake like forgetting her car keys inside her car.

Suddenly she heard-

"Hey do you need any help?"

Eleanor spun around. He was tall and in his running outfit, with streaks of sweat running down his face. He looked Asian and he seemed to appear out of nowhere yet she could tell he had been running to get to her. She couldn't get into her car or her house since she thought it would be a great idea to tie the car and house keys together , without any backup. And she was being offered help by a man who looked extremely dishevelled and frankly, a little too much.

He had a punk rock hair cut with tattoos running down his arms.

He was quite good-looking though.

"Yeah, I forgot my car keys inside, is there anyway you can open the door?" she asked. "Without breaking it, or damaging it or any physical injury of any kind, please." He looked pretty strong and he didn't want him to go all taekwondo on her car.

She never said kungfu. It was always taekwondo. It was one of her last desperate attempts to remember him.

The man scanned the road for something. Once he found it, he dived. As Eleanor watched with increasing alarm, he grabbed Mrs. Nyce's net fence and yanked a wire out.

"What the hell did you just do?" she asked him, almost screaming, her eyes popping out. Mrs Nyce_ hated_ Eleanor. It was probably because she stepped on her cat while in a hurry to get to a date.

The man almost sprinted, dashing towards her. Wow was he eager.

"Get out of the way. I'm opening your car door.."

Shocked by his actions to help a stranger (or maybe he just liked ripping fences), she watched him as he moved gracefully towards the car. The man walked like every movement of his had purpose. Eleanor got lost in a daydream about a school bus and headphones.

Meanwhile, he hooked one end of the wire and slid it through the crack at the car door. He angled it upwards and tried to hook the bolt. Once. Twice.

Again.

And again.

And once again for good luck.

Frustrated after trying multiple times, he kept on as though determined to prove something. Eleanor watched with growing pity as his attempts fail over and over. Deciding to end this and not knowing how, she decided to take matters into her own hands. With a grin, she realized that she never tried the back door.

Slowly, she walked backwards to her back doors. They were locked. Damn it.

Wait a second. There was another way...

**Park**

Come on open up. Hook in, you annoying bolt.

Park cursed himself and decided to take a small breather. The hook was taunting him. It refused to get to the bolt no matter how hard he tried. At that point, he was very tempted to break open the door but he didn't want to see how angry she could really get, even after all these years.

Suddenly, he heard a click.

"What the-"

The door swung open.

Shocked and slightly spooked, he stared at the door, his jaw dropped.

"The trunk was unlocked so I tried that. Sorry, stupid, didn't think of that before."

Park gaze travelled to see Eleanor on her knees in the middle of the car, her hand resting on the steering wheel.

His face turned red as her outfit exposed the crease between her breasts. The top was slightly low-cut and revealed quite a lot in this position. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was staring but was too thrown aback to even care.

Under his fixed gaze, he watched her get extremely self-conscious. She looked down to where he was staring and as if on cue, blotches surfaced underneath her skin. She looked uncomfortable. He smiled at her. Her face glowing red with embarrassment, she hurried out the other car door. Park was rather enjoying this.

She never did change. The woman couldn't stand being in the spotlight.

He stood where he was, pondering his next move. He wanted to keep pretending and see if she was ever going to recognize him like he did. He was surprised she didn't. He was indeed an international celebrity. He was the only Asian in the 20 most eligible bachelors list. Yet she was clueless. He quite liked it, actually. The fact that she never follows the news and celebrity gossip and all of that. _It is so not me_, his Eleanor would say._ It was something Tina would do_, his Eleanor would say a little louder this time, with a disgusted look.

Then she would accuse him of choosing Tina over her, and he'd assure her that it was all in the past. She'd storm they'd make up the next day. It was always the case between them. They'd fight but then they always got back together. Park thought it was just a childish belief; an alone yet lovesick teenager trying to hold on to his first real love. But it wasn't a childish belief and she wasn't just a first love. But how long will it be before Eleanor realizes this?

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	3. Outlaw and a Thief

**Eleanor**

God, this was embarrassing.

Eleanor tried to escape her actions, by jogging to her front door, not turning back to mutter thanks or goodbye. She was totally embarrassed that he saw her in that position in the car. What was she even thinking? She could have warned him that she was coming through, instead of taking him by surprise. She even remembered his face when he first saw her. Shock, shock and shock. Maybe inward cringing but she couldn't tell. He seemed temporarily unable to look elsewhere, at anything but her. Pervert much? Never a fan of being observed, she felt her cheeks turn bright red and knew that he noticed it as well.

She walked in the door, leaving her keys on the table. She was too tired to undress and decided to have a power nap on the sofa. But sleep evaded her.

Her mind was a factory, making connections. Pondering. Thinking. What was it about him? Something about his appearance ticked her off. He just seemed too familiar. Like he just knew everything about her, all the terrible dirty secrets, the lies, the treachery and she didn't even know who he was. Sure, she did steal for about 5 years of her life after her Uncle and Aunt kicked her out. To be honest, she saw it coming. She practically invaded their life and they were gracious enough to accept her. She didn't want to overstay her welcome but she didn't really want to go back to her family. Her mum, as she said herself, has never been alone since grade 8 and she was not going to put up with anymore of her crap. She didn't know if she had it in her to avoid or at least try not to loathe her other "partners" and be the mother to her siblings all the time, as her mother sucked at the job. She had to live her own life, as safely and as dignified as she could.

That all changed after she got homeless. The only option she had to survive was to become an outlaw and a thief. The money she could steal barely got her through the day. There were times when she considered prostitution. It scared her to think that she would sink so low. But her two high school black girl friends found her on the streets one night. There's no mistaking that flame-like hair Eleanor, they said. She was surprised they even remembered her. They did a little more than remember her. They took her to their home (yes they live together, no they are not together) and gave her shelter for a night. The next morning, they took her to the nearest rehab. She didn't do drugs, yet they still told her it was best to go. There's always something for everyone down there, they said. She paid heed to their advice and went. It was a nice place and there were others like her, damaged yet surviving. She was given a meal three times a day. She began to wonder why she didn't know about the place before. Then she realized, oh yes - she did know. But she thought she needed to pay to stay there. Or maybe it was the fear that her parents would be contacted and they'd come to take her away. Howvever, the nice people at the rehab did nothing of that sort. She was welcomed like family. She left after a month but they told her to stay.

"You have such compassion Eleanor" said the Indian woman who ran the place. "We are in need of a nurse and we think you'd be right for this job. You know everyone around here and we don't want you to go, Eleanor" she said, her words touching the depths of Eleanor's heart. She continued, "You have great potential Eleanor, just try not to let your pain and suffering become the main focus."

At that time, Eleanor took the job because:

1. She needed food and a home immediately.

2. She had no other options.

She received training as she was not a certified nurse. Being smart had its perks, and she picked up pretty quickly. Initially she hated that so many people die in a place that practically glows white? White is supposed to stand for purity or happiness. Not liver cancer or the acrid smell of death.

Soon enough, she got very attached to her long-term patients and before she knew it, she began loving the place. Sure, it smelled like death but now and then, she heard the loud wails of a newborn baby. It is a place where life and death is decided and the fact that she plays a part in the decision makes her feel important and a part of something.

On the dating front, she dated now and then but they were always first dates. Guys dated her because they thought she was different and that was intriguing apparently. Clearly, the interest didn't last long enough and soon enough, she got no phone calls.

Her train of thought led her down the road of exhaustion but she came back to the now when she heard a jingle of keys right behind her. Jumping at the sound, she whirled around, her eyes wide, hair flying.

"I think you forgot something. Again."

Him again. God. He was so cheeky. And incredibly sarcastic. He was smiling at her, as though knowing his effect on her. Well if he was going to be cheeky, bring it on Asian boy. She was Queen Cheeky. That's what everyone at the hospital used to call her, anyways. (no they didn't, they called her Ginger)

"Oh I just realized, thank you." she said. She looked over his shoulder to check that the door was closed. She was trying to avoid eye contact. But almost on intuition, she shifted her eyes back to his. Something about his eyes seemed familiar. She was positive she'd seen them before. They were so green.

No.

Oh hell no.

How often do punk Asian guys have ethereal green eyes?

Her legs automatically carried her backwards and she bumped into the front door. The emotions and adrenaline in her body messed with her muscles.

"Hey, hey hey, I got you, I got you," he said, ducking swiftly, holding her up before her behind could land on the floor.

Park freakin Sheridan. He was here in Minnesota. After all these years, he was still here.

"Do you need to sit down? Are you feeling well?"

"You-"

She pounced, tackling him to the ground.

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**What time is it? REVIEW TIME! *insert high school musical reference***


	4. Reconnected

**Park**

"HEY!" he yelled. Eleanor was raining punches and blows at him. He tried blocking her but she just wouldn't stop. He was too much of a gentleman to push her away since she would end up bruised for sure.

"ELEANOR!"

She freezed.

"Yes. FINE! okay! It's me. Long time no see huh?" he said, placing his hands in front of his face, surrendering.

She got up, breathing hard and offered her hand. He took it. He could have gotten up on his own, but he wanted to maintain as much physical contact as possible. That is not harmful or bruise-creating.

"Thanks for recognizing me so soon by the way!" he said, his voice bursting with sarcasm. " I instantly knew it was you when it took you what, 15 minutes to tell it was me?"

"Well I don't expect to bump into you of all people when I wake up every morning. Plus, I had a long night, ok?" she said, her hand over her face, fingers rubbing consciousness into her eyes. "And you look different. What did you do to your hair? You look like a crossover between Goth and Asian punk."

"What's wrong with punk?"

"Nothing."

"Oh really?"

"I like it."

"OK, now you are just stealing my line."

"It's been 20 years, give me a break."

Pause.

"You love it when I steal your line."

"You haven't changed at all have you?"

"What were you expecting?"

"I wasn't expecting anything! I didn't even know you lived here!

She grinned at him.

"No, seriously! I was just on my usual morning run and then I see a redhead emerging out of a car, hair glowing red in the fresh morning sunlight."

An awkward pause ensued.

"Wow Park. What, turned into Shakespeare since we last talked?"

"An Asian Shakespeare."

"With heavy eyeliner and spiky hair that makes you look totally 'cool'." She air quoted the last word.

"Oh and you're wearing mascara and foundation. So I guess that means makeup is suddenly okay with you, then?"

"Point made."

Pause.

"Is it going to be completely inappropriate if I invite you inside?"

"Yes."

"Park, would you like to come in?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we haven't made up yet."

"Made up? We'll have plenty of time for that once we go inside."

She unlocked the door and grabbed his hand, pulling him in with her. Instead of her feet carrying her inside, her body spun around and crashed into Park. She felt his hands encircle her and the long-lost feeling of affection returned with a flourish. Her wrist was throbbing, she felt his fingers mark her pale skin. Innocently, she looked up, brownish black eyes and ginger hair.

"Come with me, I have to show you something."

She freezed. He tugged harder on her. When he realized she wouldn't budge, he turned around.

"What?"

"That was lame, Park. 20 years later and you are still the king of bad pickup lines."

"You love it."

Rolling her eyes, she followed him as they walked in to a nearby darkened alleyway. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the darkness.

"Wait hold on, background check. Are you single?"

"Yeah. Wait are _you_ single? I thought you'd be married by now?"

"I was. But I got divorced."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"May I know her name?"

He looked uncomfortable as his brain tried to avoid answering. Oh what good is keeping secrets, he thought rationally.

"It's Tina, remember her? She cheated on me because she fancied a guy who had more money than I did."

She thought about that for a while. "Isn't that always the case?"

He smiled at her, a true smile. She changed so much, matured into this beautiful woman, yet she was still in there. His honest Eleanor, the compassionate Eleanor. The one that he loved 20 years ago was waiting inside, he just knew it. She waiting for him. He was so cheesy, he scolded himself. But was she willing to give their love a try? Again?

He really hoped her answer wasn't walking away. Again.

"I would be mad at you but I am so over Tina. I have seen enough to know that the real world is completely different from high school. Bullies are put in their rightful place, nice people fall in love and all is right in the world again."

"I agree with that statement fully. Nice people do fall in love. No matter how late."

"But what makes a person good or bad? How are we the judge?"

"Let me help you out. Where do you work?"

"The local hospital. You know, the one connected to the rehab. I am a nurse."

"Well there you go! There's your answer! You never hurt anybody in school and now you are working as a nurse! Helping others, caring for them, making the world a better place in any way that you can! If I may dare say, I think I just fell in love with you even more."

"Even more?"

"Yeah"

"I thought you would have moved on by now."

"No, the Mistake was a rebound. Everyone else since has been a rebound. I am done waiting and searching. I want the real deal." Eleanor seemed speechless. She seemed as though her muscles had locked into place for fear that anything could ruin the moment.

"Good. Good. Alright then. Tons of secrets, lots of catching up to do and lots of new bands, books and movies to discuss." she said, clapping his hands together, an excited gleam on her face.

"But first allow me to kiss the most smartest, funniest and most different girl I have ever met."

She threw a punch at his cheek.

"OW!"

"I'm not a girl anymore."

"Oh no don't tell me you had a sex change surgery."

She responded with an even harder punch.

"And you are lame, you know that right? Lame and fantastic?"

"Those are my middle names."

The sun rose behind them, a symbol of fresh beginnings and hope, as two old lovers reconnected with a face-smashing kiss.

Who said face-smashing was awkward anyway?

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